Signs
by Element's Sole Protector
Summary: When it comes to love, Sora and Kairi wax, not wane. Pure fluff, with some spiky edges due to my inexperience.


(truly can't believe she's saying this) ...Happy Valentine's Day.

Yes, that's right. I planned this _intentionally_.

For the layout of how I wrote most of this, I highly recommend reading the book _The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place_ by E.L. Konigsburg.

I don't own a single part of the _Kingdom Hearts_ series. Sadly. Breaks my heart. Hurts so good.

* * *

-_Signs_-

* * *

It shows up in all of her pictures. He gestures unconsciously toward it, in the flailing way that he deals with all such things. They look at each other, smile, then look away. Changed as they are, the sameness remains. But even Riku, the least stupid of them all, smiles as he acknowledges the difference in them.

It has become stronger.

They are Princess and island-boy to the island midgets, high and low on different sides of time. Their affection was written sparkling in the stars, to shine for all of eternity. It was destiny that they might meet and fall (the word at last) in love.

_it was destiny_

Their island is a blessing. It is where Sora and Riku grew up. It is where Sora, following the path his heart laid for him, met Kairi. The island of Destiny where the Island Boy and his Knight met the Princess, Riku likes that synopsis. It sounds like the beginning of a good story.

And a good story it is.

_the word at last_

Neither one of them has said it yet. It is a beauty, he thinks, she thinks, that it can go unsaid for so long and not cause problems between them. Just shows how _close_ they are, say the midgets with mock scorn. Riku knows the whole of it, why it is now so significant: Kairi was kidnapped and Sora said nothing, Sora lost his heart and Kairi said nothing, they found each other again _and neither said anything_. It is best not to even consider the interlude which consisted of Sora and Naminé and Kairi and Roxas. Sora, spaz that he (still) is, remembers nothing of this, and the princess has wiped her mind of unpleasant "times before Sora" and their hesitant affections.

Ah, the horror of being the unsung third, he who knows all and yet nothing.

_the unsung third_

As the third of the trio, he gets to notice things no one else does, which _is_ an upside.

_notice things_

Sora broods like Roxas, who argues like Kairi, who draws with crayons like newly-brave Naminé. They bleed into each other unconsciously, and through double attraction, their love blooms. It might be depressing if Riku actually cared. But he was glad to be notice-er and not one of the lovey-dovey puppies.

_lovey-dovey puppies_

Kairi takes his hand and pulls him into a dance one night, a twirling dizzying mass of sweet and utter silence. Sora yelps, the dance slows, and it is just his speed. He wraps his arms around her waist. Her red curtain of smooth, longer hair rests on his shoulder, sending sparks up his brown spikes that feel like an oddly-alluring electricity, the kind he only gets when their lips collide. They turn more slowly after that. It is their second hug.

_their second hug_

Their first was in a tall white castle not befitting a princess part of a reunited trio of island boy and knight. This one is on an island, and the contrast is rendered moot, unimportant, because they're home.

_home_

Home is when Sora reaches for Kairi's hand and she accepts it with a shy smile, and they leap across a rotting board. It is perfected when Kairi hand-feeds him candy they bought each other for St. White's Day, and he tries to catch some in his mouth-just like he's seen Riku do. The results prove to a giggling Kairi that there are some legends only Riku has proven true. Then Sora's pliable lips are covered in chocolate, and the solution to that is obvious.

The islands have become their sanctuary instead of their "playplace", an isolated location where they can hold hands and kiss each other's noses without Sora's mother hovering and randomly appearing from around corners. He gets any ninja skills he might have from her, Kairi is _sure_. He's such a klutz on his own.

_sanctuary_

Kairi finds solace in Sora's arms after the days of Xemnas's fall and returning to the islands, when she wakes up with screams on her lips from memories of being taken into the 'care' of Axel and then Saïx, who were cruel in the ways only Nobodies can be cruel. He strokes the flames on her head but doesn't kiss them-he knows by now that fire is a dangerous being. He saves kisses for her lips, fingers, and toes when they're swimming.

Island Boy protects the Princess well, but no one suspects that he is going through a healing process of his own all the while he shields her from the world.

Their love has grown stronger, in short, because of the moments when Sora falls asleep under the stars during nights and wakes to cloudy days, and Kairi is drawing moustaches on him with pink markers. When they go swimming, he playfully holds her underwater, only to get a noseful of water himself as a reward.

When they bake cookies together, he is first to snatch the chocolate chips. They laugh, and sound like a chorus. And when Sora cries, and Kairi cries with him, the very sun ducks its head in the pain of their pain, and thus the very world's pain.

_like a chorus_

That is what Sora likes the happiest moment of his life to, often. The moment of his darkest hour, when Kairi captures her lips with his in comfort...

_her lips with his_

It was a sweetened dance.

She wraps one arm around him and pulls, and the world tilts as she stage-whispers, "I love you."

It was the Princess's bravery which prevailed first, after all, and Riku has won his silent bet...

Sora smiles at the memory. He thought he would win, but he is a small cowardly boy in Kairi's arms, and it bothers him not one bit.

"I love you, too."

The words mean home, and heart, and light.

* * *

When I say the "little midgets", I am referring affectionately to Tidus, Wakka and Selphie, though Wakka is hardly a midget-he's Riku's age, after all.

In my mind, the characters of KH would celebrate St. White's Day, not Valentine's, which has a _really_ odd founding.

You know what to do now. Hit the button. Hard.


End file.
